Page 32 of Criminally Yours

“It’s my job.”

“I sensed something going on with Stal, but he’s not atalker. He asked if he could chat to you again at some point,” he said, the request pulling her attention to his face as he sat on the bed as far from her as possible. It dipped beneath his hulking body. “Just casually, as a friend, I guess.”

“Of course, that’s fine. He’s got a lot to deal with, now and in the future, too. I’m happy to be there for him. Besides, it will give me something to do while we wait for whatever happens next.”

Silence filled the room.

She tore her stare from Strike, who was wringing his thick hands, instead focusing on the rolling hills and lake calling her from outside the window.

She should be freaking out about the danger waiting for her, and yet the stunning landscape and the warmth of strangers made her more at ease than she’d been in her London apartment.

Millie longed for a home away from the city, but she’d ended up there. She’d moved for a change, but she was still the same person longing for happiness and adventure. That was why she used the app where she spoke anonymously to random men.

She was desperate to be someone that frightened her.

Being self-aware sucked.

Strike cleared his throat. “I’m sorry about Casey. I didn’t know what she did to you at school. You struggled with some girls before I left, but I didn’t realise she was a part of it.”

Millie walked to the window as she tempered her anger. Memories poisoned her tone. “I didn’t struggle. They bullied me or ignored me, whatever would get the biggest reaction.”

“I can’t say about the others, but I’ve learnt she was going through a lot,” Strike said, his reflection in the window. His hands rested on his thighs, and his brow furrowed. “Her little brother was seriously ill in your final year. He went from fine one day to intensive care and closeto death the next. After he came out, Casey became one of his carers.”

“How’s he now?” Her counsellor training was piqued. The fight hadn’t left her, but this new context impacted her perspective.

“He still struggles because his illness resulted in an acquired brain injury.”

“I’ve heard of that. I’ve counselled some teenagers who’ve had one. Was it severe?”

“No, but the trauma changed him. It nearly broke Casey.”

“So she took it out on me?” Millie turned, her stare challenging. “Her behaviour was inexcusable. I was susceptible and hurting, too.”

“I’m sorry. I truly am.” He stared at her with a vulnerability that confused her. “She’s not the person she was. But bullying you is unforgivable and something I wish I could have stopped. If there’s anything I can do, please let me know.”

“I’ll think about it.” The softness in his stare affected her. With everything going on, there was a pull to be close to the only person who’d made her truly happy as a teenager. Millie worried her lip with her teeth. “I’m annoyed you’re the rational one now. You were the silly one, and I sorted out your messes.”

“I had sensible moments, but they were rare. Since then, the things I’ve experienced have changed me forever.” His eyes locked on hers.

“What sort of things?”

“Things no one should know.” His shoulders drooped, and she fought the temptation to hold him.

“Things that mean sessions injuring yourself in the gym aren’t unusual? Does what I caught you doing today always work?” she pushed, joining him on the bed.

He shrugged. She remembered the sheen of tears as hepunished himself with the barbell. Millie furrowed her brow. He reached to smooth the lines, his hand hanging in the air. When she nodded, he brushed his thumb across her skin.

“We’ll have to help you ease your stress while showing your team you’re not a robot.”

He swallowed slowly. “Promise?”

Anticipation skimmed her skin, raising her pulse. She struggled to breathe.

She wasn’t in a place to promise him anything, but her words slipped out anyway. “Promise.” A cut near his jaw called out to her fingers. “Although you’re not as brusque as you think you are. Robots don’t blush like you did at breakfast, and they don’t hide fidget tools in their laps.”

“Maybe I’m less of a robot when you’re around. You were always good at bringing out my giddy, soft side.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered on her neck. His quiet dominance sparked her needs, even as she willed them away. Only books and her apps did this to her.